"conked" poems
Ta-ta Norma Drainpipe
Though I never shagged you at all
You ****** the rhythm to ******* yourself
While those around you ate crow
They schlepped out of the cleavage
And they ********** into your crumpet
They ******* you on the rowing machine
And they copulated you **** your three *****
And it seems to me you tasted your *****
Like a cigarette lighter in the diarrhoea
Never knowing who to stick it out to
When the ooze congeal from the top drawer
And I would have liked to have had carnal knowledge of you
But I was just a twit
Your cigarette lighter exploded spew out long before
Your whiff never blewout
Stiffness was sticky
The gristliest fat part you ever nibbled
Hollywood cobbled together a wizzofrog
And ******** was the corkage you greased
Even when you conked out
Oh the lubricator still molested you
All the skeletons had to jabber
Was that Marilyn was ***** flashy the starkers
Ta-ta Norma Drainpipe
from the virginal wombat in the twenty—second ghetto
Who smells you as meat as above par than scatological
Olé! than frank our Marilyn Monroe
Apr 1, 2010
Apr 1, 2010 at 4:17 PM UTC
I was drunk,
Lying on the Delhi Street,conked,
I was thrown out of a bar nearby,
I can't remember why?
I woke with a start,
I found myself in a cart,
Pulled by a shabbily dressed man
With a tattered turban,
And a ragged **** cloth round his waist.
Was he here to collect waste?
Not to ask I thought best.
I threatened him to stop,
Or I would call the cop.
Immediately he put the cart down,
He thought I was gone!
We had a long talk,
His sorry tale made me baulk,
Made me sober.
He was a corpse collector,
With a six year old daughter.
For a few miserly rupees,
He collected corpses,
From the alleys and streets,
And performed their last rites.
The corpses were mostly of those who died of cold,
Their stories untold.
The man had no home,
Come rain,cold or storm,
They lived under an old building's dome.
The little girl with him tagged along,
Looked at life as a song,
Never a complaint,
The little grubby saint.
On cold frosty days,
To stay warm,the only way,
The corpses became the child's blanket,
She cuddled amongst them as if in a basket.
Tears welled up in my eyes,
This was reality, not lies,
The strings of my heart broke,
From a lifetime of dreams I woke,
I have to turn the hands of the clock,
The Almighty had cleared my vision,
I was sent here for a reason.
I made up my mind,
Gambling and drinking I left behind.
I adopted the pair,
On the same street,I opened a Shelter,
For the needy and underprevileged,
And a Home for the aged.
In life I found my mettle
With wife and children I am settled.
I also work with other NGO's
For the betterment of people's lives.
Nov 25, 2017
Nov 25, 2017 at 3:46 AM UTC
Too familiar with the unhealthy coping mechanism of numbing emptiness with mindlessness
Your hands are too tired of the math review you’re desperately trying to finish.
You find yourself
Tapping through Snapchat stories, barely paying attention to
The group selfies, of bright, well-lit rooms decked with Christmas decorations
Of red ribbons and green pine and mistletoe
Of the white glints of friends’ toothy smiles
Sometimes the snaps would be videos
With deafening, muffled sounds of cheers, people’s faces recognizable
Even when turned away, laughing, looking at the star, the subject of the snap
All the cameras point to her face as she dances
It’s a party, and the late realization makes you feel dumb
I wasn’t invited. But why would I be?
I’m the asocial one, the one who always has to politely decline with
“Sorry, I have to do homework, have to do this, have to do that”
They’re IB kids. You’re in AP. What’s your excuse?
You think as you sit in front of your fluorescent LED screen
The phone’s luminosity searing through your eyes
But you can’t tear them away from the festive scene playing in front of you.
They’re having fun. It’s nighttime, 11:04, 5 seconds in, but
The environment in your house versus theirs
Seem 12 hours apart, night and day,
You squint, because wow, everyone is there. The close ones, the acquaintances,
That one guy you had to sit next to once in homeroom.
It’s almost Christmas.
You glance around your room.
No cat in sight, mother upstairs, conked out.
Your phone isn’t even alive. The snap has long been over. No vibrations of incoming texts.
You sigh.
Only a semester left.
And your fingers wearily
Pick up the pencil
And you resume
Alone.
Dec 17, 2017
Dec 17, 2017 at 1:15 AM UTC
Do you remember the year 1861? I was just ending my practicum of nursing, and you were being drafted to war. Oh, the day we met on that rain-washed Thursday while you were dodging the doctor from a scratched cornea, I admired you from across the medical tent.
Noticing me quickly, you half smiled. War was quickly setting into place, while you and I plunged head first into love.
We woke up to a conked labor union and our whole base blowing to hell.
My ears, my ears were engulfed with vibrations of cannon sounds.
Then and there, a bullet committed one's self to the center of my chest.
But you found me, slipping into utter darkness. You culled me back towards consciousness.
Flower, Flower, you said. And here I stand beside your plot in the necropolis, knowing my name could have been here just as easily as yours.
eternally yours,
Your Flower.
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
It is of note that the crow did not caw
and no one saw the raven.
And yet, the sparrow conked out
feasting on beauty
: spring berries,
alive
with food poisoning.
Feb 3, 2015
Feb 3, 2015 at 9:24 PM UTC
It was solitary,
Seemingly erected from nothing and nowhere,
At a time when It was unknowingly
Needed the most.
A purple haze enveloped the base,
Faint neon light buzzed,
Mimicking a heartbeat.
The car engine finally conked.
Desolate and enchanting,
A siren call if you will.
As it is in life, hesitation seeps
When you have a choice to push some buttons.
Purred to life underneath the initial caress
Inner motor jarring to action.
'Discover your fate.' The tinny voice announced.
On a dark and lonely road, the question apt.
"Could it be you have fought what you
Ultimately seek.
The courage that ebbed, introduced you to
Weak."
"The passion that once burnt has
Tainted your soul.
A bigger picture unseen,
Left you unfilled yet whole."
"So turn around and be gone,
Live life like you do.
The car engine didn't die.
It was never about you."
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 2:23 AM UTC
You strive diggin’ up my attention,
Is it a bona fide or just wanna dupe around?
Til’ when you’ll bring that to a halt?
‘Turned out to be so awkward,
Spotting you somewhere,
Then have that guts and valor callin’ out my name.
You beamed at me as if others were indiscernible,
Then drop some line,
A sort of your usual approach.
A superhero branded to own self,
W/out your costume, said your zilch
‘And avowed to brawl those imminent risks.
Only just, uttered those words;
Yet ‘found out your soft spot
With that another lass.
‘Said you’re not like other typical chaps,
But own words were gobbled
So, I think it’ll be the last.
It’s unworkable as you are,
Conked out glass, so what now?
----------------------------------
(12/25/11 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
The tyrant above,
Never cease to pursue his
Greed till all perish.
Feb 15, 2019
Feb 15, 2019 at 3:54 PM UTC
I can't tell what time it is
the clock has stopped
and it's dark outside
So
it could be midnight
just before first light or
half way through,
if
I had some candle light
I might see.
The radio conked out
and
after listening to the crap
that was put out
I'd be zonked out
too.
please message me
with the time
if you have the time,
I never did.
Nov 10, 2018
Nov 10, 2018 at 1:32 AM UTC